


Tell Me I Was Brave

by Streetlamp_Sunset



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Canon Compliant, Caretaking, Clint Brewer - Freeform, David Rose Loves Patrick Brewer, David Rose is a Good Person, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Future Fic, Grief Sex, Grief/Mourning, Husbands, Life-Affirming Sex, Loss of Parent(s), M/M, Minor Character Death, Off screen non-graphic death, Porn with Feelings, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-04
Updated: 2020-08-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:55:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,250
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25704721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Streetlamp_Sunset/pseuds/Streetlamp_Sunset
Summary: “Patrick,” David said softly, reaching out to cup his jaw. His hand was so warm against his face. David had been holding them up all day. He straightened Patrick’s tie and fixed his mother’s hair. He stepped in to carry the casket when the youngest pallbearer faltered under the weight of his own grief. Patrick practically collapsed in his waiting arms.“Oh, Honey,” David slid an arm around his waist, the other firm on the nape of his neck. Patrick clutched the back of his sweater with shaking hands, buried his face against David’s throat. David smelt of home, waves of warmth and safety cut through the low din of numbness.David takes care of Patrick after the loss of his father.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 25
Kudos: 146





	Tell Me I Was Brave

**Author's Note:**

> CW: graphic sex  
> Song title from My Tears Ricochet by Taylor Swift

“Patrick?” his cousin, Lily, set a tentative hand on his arm. He couldn’t seem to make himself respond. His gaze was frozen on the image of his mother sitting in the middle of their couch, surrounded by family. She looked so alone. Her tissue was the same one she had been using for the past two minutes. His father would’ve handed her a new one. They had buried him this morning. “Patrick?” Lily’s voice wobbled, “I’m going to get David, okay? Stay right here.”

David sounded good. There was a run in Marcy’s stocking where it had caught against a neighboring headstone. His father had new neighbors. Patrick felt something like laughter escape his throat at the thought. The sound punched out of him like a gasp.

“Patrick,” David said softly, reaching out to cup his jaw. His hand was so warm against his face. David had been holding them up all day. He straightened Patrick’s tie and fixed his mother’s hair. He stepped in to carry the casket when the youngest pallbearer faltered under the weight of his own grief. Patrick practically collapsed in his waiting arms. 

“Oh, Honey,” David slid an arm around his waist, the other firm on the nape of his neck. Patrick clutched the back of his sweater with shaking hands, buried his face against David’s throat. David smelt of home, waves of warmth and safety cut through the low din of numbness. He was probably supposed to feel sad, but he just felt empty, maybe a little hungry. 

“Thank you,” he heard David say. The familiar timbre of his voice was comforting. Patrick rubbed his cheek over the soft fabric of David’s sweater. His suit had been so stiff; he’d changed as soon as Patrick had asked.

His cousin, Tyler, set a comforting hand on his shoulder, “fuck, man, I’m so sorry. Uncle Clint was the best.” He squeezed Patrick’s arm lightly before walking off. 

“Patrick, you should drink something,” David lifted a water bottle into his line of sight. As soon as the liquid rolled over his tongue he realized how thirsty he had gotten. 

“I think I’m hungry,” he said against David’s chest. He couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten. The whole weekend was a blur. He stepped away and tangled their fingers together, grabbing a weird keto muffin off the table. Everything else looked daunting. The thought of putting food in his stomach made nausea roll through his gut.

Patrick led David downstairs, flipping the lock behind them. He couldn’t handle the barrage of well meaning mourners anymore; he just wanted to be alone with David. They sat side by side on the guest bed, Patrick picking at the wrapper. The one bite he’d eaten had gone down like a lump in his throat.

“What can I do?” David asked, reaching over to take the muffin and set it on the side table. Patrick leaned against his shoulder, David’s arm coming up automatically to wrap around him. He nosed the hollow of David’s throat, pressing a chaste kiss there. "Patrick?”

“I need to feel something, David,” Patrick lifted his head to meet his eyes. There had been no pity in them since he'd gotten the call. David was steady, face full of love and understanding.

“Okay, Honey,” David said, dragging Patrick forward by the nape of his neck. Patrick whimpered in his mouth, still teetering on the edge of his grief. He felt it spark as David kissed him, the intensity of his emotion spiraling and twisting into arousal.

His cock hardened in response to the slide of David's tongue against his. It was the closest he had felt to any semblance of normal in three days.

“David,” Patrick breathed, hands a touch too tight where they were clutching his hips. David was there, warm and alive. He surged up and crushed their mouths together, lifting the hem of his sweater. He slid it over David’s head, mindful of his things even through the haze of loss. “Off,” Patrick said, reaching for his undershirt, “please, I need to feel you.”

“I’m right here, Patrick,” David held his shoulders, thumbs dipping beneath Patrick’s collar. 

Patrick ran his hands over David’s bare chest, solid and flushed with arousal. He trailed his fingertips through the dark expanse of hair. Patrick pressed a flat palm to David’s heart, feeling it beat against his hand as he dropped his forehead to David’s shoulder. He turned his head to mouth at the base of his throat.

“I love you,” Patrick said, voice sounding foreign to his own ears. He kissed his way up David’s neck, tasting the salt on his skin. “David, I love you so much.” 

“I know you do,” David’s hand slid over his back in firm, broad sweeps. The other threaded through the curls at the nape of his neck. “I love you too, Patrick.”

Patrick's whole chest constricted at his gentle tone. He pulled back, tugging clumsily at his tie.

“David, get it off,” Patrick begged, looking up at him with watery eyes. It was too fucking much. He didn’t want clothes between them. 

“Patrick, breathe,” David said as he loosened his tie, sliding it over his head. “Shirt too?” he asked. His knuckles brushed Patrick’s throat; it was enough to draw air back into his lungs.

“All of it,” Patrick said, “I don’t want it, I don’t want any of it.” 

“I know, Honey,” David said, undoing his button up with deft fingers. He slid it down Patrick’s shoulders along with his suit jacket. It had been his father’s. It was too big when he’d gotten it; David had it tailored for him last July. Patrick tossed it across the room, kicking his pants and boxer’s after it. 

“Come here, Patrick,” David said, moving to lean against the headboard. Patrick crawled across the bed, feeling like he might float away if they weren’t touching. He straddled David’s lap, leaning forward to kiss him. It wasn’t enough.

“David,” he said against his mouth, breathless, “I need you inside of me.” David cupped Patrick’s jaw, tilting his head up to search his face.

“Okay, Honey,” he said, thumb brushing along his cheek. David reached over to grab lube from the side table. “Up,” he said, tapping the side of Patrick’s thigh. 

Patrick rose to his knees, bracing himself on the headboard. He closed his eyes against the blue of the paint. David’s arms were wrapped around him, hands sliding over the curve of his ass and down his inner thigh. He turned his head to kiss the side of Patrick’s chest.

“Is this what you wanted?” David asked, checking, always checking before he went further. Patrick nodded.

“Yes, David,” he said after realizing he couldn’t see the motion. David dropped another kiss on his skin, squeezing his hips lightly in acknowledgment. He heard the click of the lube.

Patrick rolled his hips as David’s fingers rubbed over his hole. His cock was pressed against David’s chest. The friction wasn’t enough to get him off, but it felt good. He gave into the sensation, desire and need building as David slid two fingers inside. 

“More,” Patrick practically sobbed at the stretch, warm and bright behind his eyes. David let out a low hum, but he kept the movement the same. He opened Patrick slowly, dragging out the arousal buzzing through him. He felt drunk on it, clinging to the headboard, curling into David’s touch. David got him loose, stretched wide with three fingers, maybe four. He was burning with the desire to be filled, consumed by something other than his own pain.

“Patrick,” David reached up to caress the side of his face. 

“David,” he breathed, meeting his eyes. David's smile was rough around the edges, but it was there. Patrick held his gaze as he sunk down on his cock. David had a firm hold on his hips; he felt steady. David surrounded him, the bend of his knees at Patrick’s back. He was in David’s arms and braced against his broad chest, a familiar comfort. 

Patrick had felt like he was falling apart all weekend, David catching pieces of him as they threatened to slip away. He stilled for just a moment, leaning forward to rest his face against David’s throat. He breathed him in, pulling the scent of home into his lungs. 

“I’ve got you, Patrick,” David’s palms smoothed down his spine as his breath shuddered. 

“I know you do,” Patrick said as he began to move. It wasn’t the frantic pace he had expected to overtake him. There was so much relief in the slow slide of their bodies, desire that licked up his spine. David’s mouth moved against his with such tenderness, as if he had asked where it hurt only to find that Patrick’s whole body ached. He drew soft moans from Patrick’s lips, trying to kiss it better the best way he knew how. 

David’s hand moved between them to wrap around his cock. He stroked Patrick with the pace of his thrusts, lazy and slow. The warm metal of his rings brushed over Patrick’s stomach. Patrick pulled away to press a kiss to the skin beneath the corner of his jaw, stubble against Patrick's lips. David had been skipping steps skincare to take care of him. Patrick mouthed a trail of kisses down his throat, licking away the sweat. He lay his cheek on David’s chest, panting against his skin as he thrust up into him. 

“David,” Patrick gasped as he came. The force of his orgasm shot through him, unexpectedly strong. David pressed a kiss to his temple and stroked him through it. He whined as David moved to pull out, still hard.

“This isn’t about me, Patrick,” David said, smoothing a hand over his hip.

“Then stay,” Patrick said, “I want to feel you.” David kissed his forehead.

“Okay, Honey,” he said, pulling out, “here.” David guided Patrick to lay on his back. He brought Patrick’s knees up to his chest, settling between them before the empty feeling could creep back in. David curled over him, heavy and warm. His weight pressed Patrick into the mattress with each thrust. He felt small in the best way, contained and protected, like David was shielding him from everything outside the two of them.

David stilled as he came, nosing at Patrick’s jaw until he tipped his face up for a kiss. He eased out of Patrick, shifting to lay on his side next to him. Patrick burrowed into the warmth of his chest, a wave of emotion crashing over him.

“David,” he said quietly, “my dad is dead.” His voice broke on the last word and he felt himself break apart, again. He had lost count of how many times he dissolved into the pain that way.

“I know, Honey,” David said, holding him as he shook, and gasped, and choked on his grief. “I’m so, so sorry.” 

When he was ready, they made their way to the bathroom. He stared at the lone crack in the shower tile as David ran a washcloth over his body. He tipped his head back into David’s hands, closing his eyes as he rinsed the shampoo, then conditioner, away. He dried himself off, but his hands were numb again. 

They dressed in their sleep clothes and Patrick grabbed one of David’s hoodies. The sleeves fell past his hands; it smelt like him. He climbed the wooden stairs with socked feet, curling up in an armchair as David and his Aunt Lucille herded everyone from the house.

“How are you doing, sweet boy?” He glanced up to find his mom standing at his elbow with red rimmed eyes. Patrick swallowed, standing to hug her. He was pretty sure he would start crying again if he spoke. 

“Come on, Marcy,” Aunt Luci said, gently prodding them towards the kitchen. “You need to eat something, Sweetie.” She reached out to pat his cheek, “you too, kiddo.” Patrick smiled weakly, following her to the kitchen. David had set out plates and portioned out one of the many casseroles they had received over the past few days.

“Hi,” David said, pausing with a glass halfway to the table. 

“Thank you, David,” Patrick said, voice round with emotion. David pressed his lips together, humming as he blinked up at the ceiling.

“Of course,” he managed eventually. 

Dinner was a quiet affair. David hooked his foot around Patrick’s, hand resting on his knee. Patrick was grateful for the touch. It grounded him enough that he was able to follow at least some of the stories Aunt Luci was telling. David collected their dishes, loading them and packing away the rest of the food.

“Do you need anything else?” David asked, hugging Marcy goodnight.

“You’ve done more than enough, David. Get some rest, sweetheart,” she said before following her sister up the stairs. Aunt Lucille was staying in Patrick’s childhood bedroom so she could be close by. 

“David, take me to bed,” Patrick said from where he was slumped against his side. They shut the lights off upstairs and brushed their teeth in silence. David slid beneath the covers and Patrick crawled into his arms. He lay his head over David’s heart, listening to it beat in the dark. 

“I love you,” David said against his hair, “Patrick, I love you so fucking much.” He sounded like he was crying.

“I love you too, David.” Their hands found each other, holding on through the sleepless night. 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!!!  
> ❤️ Sunset


End file.
